Not Alone
by aqaws321
Summary: In their line of work, death is not uncommon. Nor is the crushing guilt that comes with it. A tribute to the epic bromance of Jack and MacGyver. No major character death.


**Work title from "Not Alone" by Red. This was a prompt from only-some-loser, who wanted something inspired by this song and that portrayed Jack and Mac's bromance. Would recommend listening to the song while you read. Hope you enjoy!**

 **Warnings: references to off-screen minor character death.**

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Jack jerked awake, gasping. He struggled from his sweat-ridden sheets and opened his door. There, he found MacGyver. The younger man was poised to knock on the door when Jack wrenched it open, and Mac stepped back in surprise. He took in his friend's haunted expression and stepped closer, laying a gentle hand on the older man's arm. "We did everything we could, Jack."

Jack sighed. "I know. I just- it wasn't enough."

MacGyver didn't reply, just turned and lead Jack back to the living room's couch. The two men sank down on it, pressed close enough that their arms were touching, and simply sat.

Jack didn't know how long they stayed there, silent, unmoving, staring into the darkness. Eventually, he began to talk. "I thought we were going to make it in time."

MacGyver listened. "We were on track to make it in time. We were _supposed_ to make it in time. It was so stupid. We didn't make it because of traffic, Mac! We didn't make it in time to stop the bomb because of _traffic_! And now-"

Jack broke off abruptly, swiping a hand across his face. "They're gone. Because I couldn't get us there fast enough."

The man laughed hollowly as he felt a few wayward tears drip down his cheeks as he thought of the loss of life. MacGyver shifted, then began to speak. "It's not your fault, Jack, it's not."

Jack felt a twinge of anger- at the situation, at the world, at _himself_ \- rise up. "Whose fault is it, then?"

MacGyver shrugged, a gesture that was full of a deep sadness that only comes with the familiarity of death. "No one's. This happens. This is what happens in this job. Sometimes things like this happen, and there's nothing we can do to prevent it. Sometimes life is lost, and you know what? That's what makes life so precious. The fact that when we have it, we cling to it, trying to keep it as long as possible. And when life is lost, we're reminded of how precious it is."

Jack scowled into the dark. "So what you're saying is that life is precious and I'm a terrible person for letting those people die."

Mac brought his hand up abruptly to wave it expressively in frustration. "No, that's not- what I mean is, yeah, we didn't make it in time. We lost those people. But we did everything we could, we did our best. Look at me, Jack, and tell me if there _was_ something- anything- else you could've done."

The blond turned his head at that, ducking his head a bit to meet Jack's eyes. Jack, slowly, running through scenarios in his mind, shook his head. "We couldn't have done anything."

MacGyver nodded. "I know. Believe me, I know. I've gone through everything in my head, and there's nothing we could've done. You hear that, Jack? _Nothing_. You can't let this destroy you. Forgive yourself- even though there's nothing to forgive- and let it go."

The older man sighed. He thought of the innocents that had died, of the families that had lost a family member- and he remembered his best efforts to reach them in time. He had done everything he could. There was nothing else he could've done- _nothing_.

Jack forgave himself. The crushing weight of the guilt that had resided in his chest for the past fifteen hours slowly lifted, leaving behind a sense of sorrow, but also a sense of relief.

It wasn't his fault.

Jack leaned his head back against the back of the couch. "Thanks, Mac."

Jack knew, even without seeing, that his friend was smiling. Jack felt a smile growing on his face as well. There would be sorrow for this mission, and guilt that couldn't be completely banished for quite some time, but as long as the other was there, neither of them would be alone, whether it be in grief, joy, or pain.

That's what it meant to be partners, brothers, even.


End file.
